


Does Your Mother Know?

by JustAWinchesterGirl



Series: SPN/Reader Oneshots [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, NOT underage though, also- unprotected sex with a stranger, but they are strangers in this one so i thought i should tag it, i mean most of my fics are unprotected sex, idk i honestly don't know what this is but i hope you enjoy anyway, like about 15 years age difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 18:37:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6162847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAWinchesterGirl/pseuds/JustAWinchesterGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the ABBA song.<br/>It's your birthday, and your friends take you out to the bar to celebrate, trying to get you to hook up with someone to get over a recent break up. You're not really for it- until you eye up an attractive stranger at the bar, one who is quite a bit older than you.<br/>Maybe the problem is the guys your own age.<br/>Smut ensues.<br/>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Does Your Mother Know?

It’s your birthday. You’re twenty-two; just like the Taylor Swift song.

You’d just gotten out of a relationship and you didn’t feel that much like celebrating, but of course the girls insisted. They were gonna take you out to the bar to do your 22nd birthday properly, and maybe find you a hot one-night stand to help you get over your douche-y ex.

You sigh and survey your appearance in the mirror. Your bestie had given you a makeover- complete with a little black dress. You still aren’t really feeling the whole “hookup” thing- but she insisted that once you got a few drinks in you you’d change your mind.

The birthday starts out okay, and you begin to relax- laughing, and drinking, and dancing with your friends. A few of them keep giving you subtle nudges towards some of the guys in the bar, but none of them are really your type. You dance with one or two of them to satisfy your friends, but you have no plans on going home with anybody tonight.

That’s when you see **him** sitting at the bar.

He looks ten years older than you at least, but he’s easily the best looking guy in the joint. Even through his denim jacket, layered over flannel and a t-shirt, you can see how large and hard his muscles are. He has short blonde-brown hair and when he feels your eyes on him, he turns to meet them with the deepest green eyes you’ve ever seen. You feel a blush creep up your face as he shoots you a smirk and a wink and turns back to the man he’d been talking to.

You don’t know where you get the courage. Maybe it’s the way your friends are egging you on. Maybe it’s the few drinks you’ve had. Maybe it’s your makeover, or the music, or the heat between your legs when you looked at him. Whatever it is, you go with it and approach him- hips swaying to the music.

“You wanna dance?” you ask, sidling up to the bar stool he’s seated at.

He smirks and looks you over, eyes raking appreciatively over your body, “I don’t really dance, sweetheart,” he says, and his deep, gravelly voice is like melted chocolate and makes your insides all warm and tingly.

“But it’s my birthday,” you sigh, leaning against the bar and bending toward him a little.

He chuckles and his tongue darts out over his lips as he takes in your appearance, “Oh, is it now? Well in that case, I guess I should at least buy you a drink,” he motions at the bartender, who makes you another drink and you take a seat next to the attractive stranger.

The man he’d been talking to looks only slightly irritated with the interruption, a small smile on his lips as he watches his friend flirt with you.

“What’s your name, birthday girl?” the green-eyed man asks and you have to recollect yourself from the effects of that deep voice before you answer.

“Y/N.”

“Very nice to meet you, Y/N,” he smiles, “I’m Dean, and this is my brother, Sam,” he gestures to the man next to him.

“What brings you to town, Dean?” you ask, trying to look more interested in his words than the way his tongue drags over his lips, or his fingers tap against his glass, or his knees spread a little as he turns toward you.

He goes in his coat pocket and pulls out a badge, flashing it at you, “Business,” he says as your eyes widen at the FBI badge.

“Wow! FBI!” you smile, impressed, “That must be dangerous. Can I ask what you’re investigating?”

“Couple of missing persons in the area,” he says, “but you don’t wanna hear about that.”

“Dean,” Sam says behind him, trying to get his attention.

“Why don’t you go back to the motel and look into that lead we just got, Sammy. I’m gonna stay and treat Y/N here to a birthday drink,” he says, eyes begging his brother to leave before he winks at you.

“And a dance,” you add, “Please, just one. It _is_ my birthday.”

“I don’t think she’s taking no for an answer, Dean,” Sam chuckles, paying for his drink and getting up to go.

You shake your head, eyes meeting Dean’s and you give him a flirty smile and rest your hands on his arm, “Come on, Dean, you must need a little break from busting bad guys.”

He chuckles and downs the rest of his drink in one go, sliding off the stool, “Alright, sweetheart, **one** dance. Since it’s your birthday.”

You shoot a grin at your friends as you take his hands and lead him to the dance floor, guiding his hands to your hips and swinging them to the music, leaning back against him as you sway. “I love this song!” you comment, cranking up the sex appeal of your moves as his hands roam your body, his face pressed to the crook of your neck as you grind against him.

“I’ll be honest, sweetheart, this isn't my kid of music,” he tells you, “I’m more of a Led Zeppelin kind of guy myself.”

You shrug, “But you can’t dance like _this_ to that!”

He chuckles again and presses his hips against your ass, his hands sliding up your torso, and you can feel him growing hard under your ministrations, “How old are you today, Y/N?”

You spin in his arms and wrap yours around his neck, leaning in close to his face, your eyes fixed on those delicious pink lips. “Twenty-two,” you tell him.

“Shit, is that all?” he says, slight panic in his voice as he tries to back up from you.

You frown, “Is that a problem?”

He sighs, “Well we can finish our dance, honey, since it is your birthday and all. But honestly, you’re a little young for me. So you gotta stop… **that** ,” he gasps as you rock your hips into his again.

“I’m a fully consenting adult, Dean,” you whisper in his ear, silently begging him to let you take this further.

“I am almost fifteen years older than you, sweetheart. What are you doing eyeing up an old man like me? The guys your own age not good enough for you?” he asks, his arms winding back around you and resting on your lower back.

“Nope,” you enunciate, popping your lips together on the P and wetting them with your tongue, “They’re only boys. I’m looking for a **man**. At least for tonight.”

“Is that so?” he chuckles.

“Mhm,” you hum, hyperaware of how close his face is to yours, and his hands gripping your hips, and how you’ve both stopped dancing, “So what’s it gonna be Mr. Fancy-FBI-Agent? Wanna come back to mine for the night?”

“Hmm… I don’t know,” he teases, “Won’t your parents be mad?”

You swat his arm playfully, “I’m twenty-two, Dean!”

“No roommates?”

“No roommates. As of last week- it’s just me,” you tell him.

“Last week?” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Like I said- boys my age are just that; _Boys_ ,” you lean in close to his ear, “Why don’t you take me home and show me what a _man_ can do?”

“I am sorely tempted…” he breathes, voice strained.

“What? You never give in to temptation?” you ask.

He laughs low in his throat, “Oh, sweetheart, I give in to temptation more than I probably should.”

You take that last final step of courage and move his hand down from where it rests on your back to grope your ass, “Then come on, Dean. Give in.”

He hesitates for a minute, but then his grip tightens on your ass, “Fuck it,” he growls, smashing his lips to yours. You can hear your friends hoot and holler as you melt into the kiss, giving back everything he gave threefold. His lips feel and taste even better than you’d been imagining all night. His tongue snakes it’s way past your lips to curl against yours and you sigh into his mouth, pushing yourself closer to him. He breaks away, eyes darkened with lust and voice barely a whisper as he breathes, “Let’s go,” and pulls you by your arm outside.

You shoot a wink and a grin at your best friend as you leave and she smiles at you.

He leads you outside and down the block a little to the sexiest car you have ever seen.

“This is yours?” you ask, yet again impressed with this man. You’re not sure you’ll ever go back to guys your own age.

“Yeah, she’s mine!” he boasts proudly as you ogle his car almost as hard as you’d been ogling him. He opens the door for you and you climb into the passenger seat. When he gets into the car your hands are on him again, desperate to see more of him, to explore his body, to be _fucked senseless_ by this gorgeous man in front of you.

He grabs your ass again and hauls you across the seat closer to him as his lips meet yours again. “Where’d you say your place was?” he mutters against your lips as you attempt to pull his clothes off him.

“It’s about twelve blocks,” you reply, not thinking clearly enough to be able to give him an address.

“Can’t wait that long,” he breathes, and jumps into the back seat, pulling you after him.

You giggle and fall on top of him in the back seat, pulling your dress off and watching his face as he looks over your body appreciatively. He sits up and loses his layers, your eyes rake over his torso as he pulls the t-shirt over his head, taking in every bare expanse of skin that he reveals to you. There’s a pentacle surrounded by flames tattooed on his chest and you raise an eyebrow at him as you run your fingers over it, “What’s this about?”

“Just thought it looked cool,” he mutters, lips attaching themselves to your neck and his fingers dip between your legs to run over your panty covered slit. You moan and rub yourself against his fingers, desperate for more. “I think you should take these off,” he murmurs against your skin and you nod, lifting your hips to pull them down your legs.

As soon as you get them off, he pushes one finger inside you, and you gasp, pushing yourself down onto it and turning your head to press your lips against his again. The next time he pushes his fingers into you, there’s two of them and you moan and silently wish he’d just fuck you already, but you honestly don’t want to rush this. If you only get one night with this man you want it to last. Gripping his arms tightly, you ride his fingers, desperate for more.

“Eager little girl, aren’t you?” he chuckles in your ear and you wanna argue with the pet name but instead you just moan and nod and gasp, “Fuck me, Dean.”

He laughs again and pulls his fingers slowly from you, backing away. You make a noise of protest as he leans you back against the door and pulls at your legs to change the angle of your hips. “You really wanna rush this right through to the end, little girl?” he asks, “I thought you wanted to see what a man fucks like?” He grins at you and his head disappears between your legs. You make a noise of surprise when his tongue swipes up your slit and flicks against your clit.

You’d received oral before- but your ex didn’t like doing it much and he honestly wasn’t very good at it. You’d just assumed that was it and never really wanted to do it seeing as he could never get you off. **This** was a whole different experience.

Dean’s tongue is soft and starts out light and teasing, tracing the outside of your pussy before playing lightly with your clit with the tip of his tongue. You’re a moaning, begging mess before he finally increases the pressure and speed of his tongue, causing you to lift your hips to buck into his face and scream. He laughs again and pushes his fingers back inside you to pump them in and out as his tongue works ceaselessly against your clit.

“Dean, I- Dean, fuck! Dean!” you cry out as you come hard around his fingers, bucking up against his tongue.

“Oh, god,” you moan as you come down from your climax, propping yourself back up and looking over at him hungrily, eager to have him inside of you if **that** was what he could do with just his fingers and tongue.

“How’s that?” he laughs, “Better than boys your own age?”

You nod, dazed, “ _So_ much better,” you breathe.

He smiles and crawls over you, pulling his zipper down, “You want me to fuck you now, little girl?” he purrs as he pulls his cock from his jeans.

You eye it hungrily, desperate to have him inside of you. You nod again and whine, “Yes, please, Dean. Fuck me!” You spread your knees wider, trying to pull him toward you.

He sinks into you slowly, letting you get used to his impressive girth, his eyes falling closed momentarily as he revels in the feeling of having you wrapped around him. You spend a minute just getting used to having him inside of you, clenching around him and making him gasp a little, before he groans and asks, “You ready?”

You nod and moan, grinding your hips against his to get him to move inside you.

He pulls out slowly and pushes back in at the same pace, fucking you slow and gentle, but deep, and you moan and try to push up into him, willing him to go faster. “Dean!” you moan, wiggling your hips under him.

“Trust me, baby,” he breathes and your breath catches in your throat at the endearment and you nod, letting him fuck you at his own pace. It feels **great** but you’re slowly turning into a mess under him, wishing he’d just fuck you hard and fast and make you come again. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore he picks up the pace, going from slow and gentle to fast and hard, slamming you back against the seat with the force. You scream and claw at his shoulders, moaning loudly into the crook of his neck and becoming overwhelmed with the pleasure. “That’s it, little girl,” he rasps against your skin as he kisses and sucks at your neck, “That’s it.”

You can only moan in response, bucking your hips up to meet his with every thrust.

“Dean! I- Dean! I want- oh, god!” you moan loudly as you come again, clenching hard around him and causing a loud moan to fall from his lips as well.

“I can’t-” he groans, “I didn’t- Can I?” he asks and you know what he’s asking for and you nod vigorously, “Yes. God, yes.”

He lets go and comes deep inside of you with a long moan, his head falling to your shoulder as his orgasm wracks his body and you’ve never seen anything so hot in your entire life.

When he pulls out he looks up at you with a smirk on his face, “Well? Did I meet your expectations, little girl?”

“Fuck, Dean,” you breathe in reply.

He chuckles again and kisses your head softly, “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

You grin, “Best birthday **ever**.”

He helps you find your clothes before opening the door for you so you can crawl out of the car. “Your friends still waiting for you?” he asks, nodding toward the bar.

You shrug, “Probably.”

He gives you one last lingering kiss, “You should get back.”

You giggle, “God, my friends are gonna be so jealous that I slept with a fed!”

He laughs at you, “Go on, little girl. And hey- don’t write off guys your own age, okay? They aren’t all total douchebags. Besides, you’re young, you got a lot of time left to just play,” he winks at you.

“You’d know something about that, wouldn’t you?” you laugh, smiling back at him as you turn to head back to the bar.

“See you around, little girl!” he calls after you.

You smile- this really was the best birthday ever.


End file.
